Strife's Chosen
by Roo3
Summary: This was written in response to a list challenge. So many stories portray Strife as a sweet, innocent, misunderstood god who likes children and is very different from the god on the show. This is a response to those stories. Rated R for disturbing them


**Strife's Chosen**

by Roo

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Strife loves children. He loves the way they laugh and play, the way they look at him like he's the center of the universe, the smartest thing they've ever seen. No one else looks at him like that, not even his dippy cousin Deimos who believes he walks on water. But the children, they worship him. Maybe because they sense that he's one of them, deep down inside. That he never really grew up, he just pretended to. That's why he spends so much time with the children, playing with them and listening to their laughter, watching their smiles. He hoards those smiles for when he feels alone and depressed, when it seems like everyone ignores him. Then he takes them out, along with all the other gifts from the children, and watches them and remembers he is loved.

He has his own special group of children; children he finds huddled in dark alleyways, or foraging for food or beaten or forgotten by their parents. Those who are as unwanted and as unloved as he himself feels when the dark moods descend upon him. He takes them in, as he has for generations, and gives them a home. All he asks for in exchange is their love and their worship, which they give freely. 

Today has been one of those days. Ares is planning a new war and doesn't want to be bothered - especially by someone who'll just screw everything up. And Eris has obviously wormed her way into her brother's bed again. She drapes herself over Ares like a cat, purring as he fondles her and tells her his plans, and their looks scorch and burn and they don't even notice Strife.

So Strife goes to where he knows he'll be appreciated. He goes to see his children, the special ones. They live in a forest, in a giant tree house he built long ago. Of course, it's more like a tree castle now - there are several floors, and rooms full of gold, jewels, food and treasure. The poor children never had anything before, so Strife likes to make sure they have every luxury they could want. And the children bring treasures of their own, things that make them happy. 

The tree castle is in a giant oak tree that reaches miles into the sky, a titan of the forest. A wooden platform can be raised and lowered on ropes from the tree, but Strife just flies up, invisibly walking past the guards. Sometimes he likes to watch the children before he appears to them, just to make himself feel better. Of all the places in the world, this one feels most like home. 

He floats through the entryway, past the kitchen into the playroom. This is where the youngest children stay, the older ones all pitching in to take care of the babies and little ones. Strife believes in being a family and working together. Today twelve-year-old Aethra is watching them - from the looks of her her latest baby will be joining those crawling on the floor in a few weeks' time. Strife wants to be there for her big day. It's not every day that he becomes a father. Well, it's a relatively common occurrence, but certainly not an everyday one. 

In the next room, eight-year old Aeson and Candaon are fighting, hacking at each other with jeweled swords, slipping and sliding on the blood that covers the floor. Poor Dike huddles in a corner next to a corpse that's too decayed to recognize, his life spilling out of him. Strife would like to help him, but he knows that sometimes sacrifices must be made. He only wants the strongest, the best for his followers, and it looks like Dike just won't make the cut.

In another room, five-year-old Helena is tidying the shrine, and Strife eagerly examines the latest offerings. There are gold coins, as usual. The children are good at finding rich travelers with gold, and vicious about taking it. They remember what it was like to be poor, to live from day to day, and they hate all those who have more than they did. They attack from the trees, using their teeth and their weapons, screeching and screaming, and the sight of them has caused more than one mercenary to flee, screaming. They're an impressive group, Strife's chosen children. A skull is centered on the altar, picked mostly clean by the birds. Strife likes the look of it, especially since Helena placed a small candle inside it and the eye sockets glow as the flame flickers where a brain once resided. It's very cool, and Strife likes to be cool. Flowers sit to the left of the skull, and a finger sporting a huge pearl ring rests to the right. The children have been busy, and Strife feels a pang of guilt because he's been neglecting them recently. He always feels bad about that, because these children are special and they need his guidance and support.

He moves on, watching the children play, beaming with pride. So many have been here, so many have gone out into the world to spread the word. And someday, when he's ready, Strife and all of his children will rise up like a boiling tide and sweep over Greece, and the others won't have a clue what hit them. But for today, Strife is just happy to spend time with his little family.

Strife loves children. 

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End file.
